Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → What do you think?

Wow, this is some very romantic cat.
I give you brownie points for writing about a cat.
*Murasaki loves cats*

I am very bad at poetry.. and very bad at reading it. But it sounds cool ;P

Thanks for your comments I'd love to hear other peoples poetry and writing what ever you come up with

Sounds good, but I feel the meter/beat of it is off. Just try tapping it out on the stressed and unstressed syllables to see what I mean, and you'll notice it doesn't add up.

I'm not that good at the mechanics of writing i just like being creative with it but thanks for your feed back i'll work on it

Lots of conceits used there....you need to work on your vocabulary and structure.

Also, some sloppy expression bits:

dark like coal dusted snow

Thanks for taking time to read my poem it was just a bit of fun not meant to be taken too seriously I did win a competition with it though so I guess they must have read it a bit differently.

Here's some more this is a bit older and longer I wrote it while walking my dog

Of the shadows of the night the morning sparrows call. We keep a waiting for the light after dark and shall the holy cherry blossoms fall?
Canter, follow, whisper and catch the spirits that go a dancing, listening for the sun to sing its final applause. Pink, orange, lilac grey covers sun kissed blue. Hovering silky clouds floating near and far.
For as the light fades away our sight is lost and we must find our way. Fear builds, lightning strike, twisted wood where shadows lurk and sneak a wicked smile. Heartbeat pounding stillness, silence, searching, but all is unknown, for there is nothing but our own hostile thoughts that create our terror filled dread.
The cackling witches flying high broomsticks twisted in a knot. Giggling imps and pixies dance the whole night through, among the toadstools, meadow flowers and the tufty grass. Howling, twit-a-twooing, chirping creates a holy symphony.
Neat little boxes all in a row, all with little creatures draped with unwaking dreams, trapped in uncrafted beds, waiting for morning beams and the sweet taste of honey suckle dew through the air. Shall it come? What if god forgets to open heavenâs sun filled gates and leaves sweet night air, leaves the earth still in peaceful contemplation, each breath a reminder of the last.
But always darkness does dispense into the chariot of fire rising over the hill. A summer breeze twists across our parched land, it circles the minds who have been waiting. Rain, dust, butterflies see the morning sun, for finely this watered sphere awakes.

Sorry if it doesn't show up properly on your computer it doesn't on mine hope you can read it